


Three Is Tradition

by Hedwig_Dordt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, F/M, M/M, Making Food, background relationships are the parentals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 14:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8895646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedwig_Dordt/pseuds/Hedwig_Dordt
Summary: Scott and Stiles celebrate Christmas.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Loz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loz/gifts).



> You requested happy Scott, so I tried to make that happen in various ways. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Recipes lifted from thekitchn.com: http://www.thekitchn.com/a-christmas-tamale-party-menu-226347 if you’re interested in the Christmas tamales. Soft Christmas is legit a compilation that is available on Spotify. Heir to the Jedi and Bloodlines are Star Wars novels. The Once and Future King is a beautiful retelling of the Arthur legend.
> 
> I have a lot of ideas about the McCall pack Christmas, and I deleted so many of them because they required too much explanation. I’m assuming it takes place in 2017, and Hannuka runs December 13th-20th of that year.

“This is the third year we’re doing this,” Scott says as they are driving to the christmas tree nursery, “does that make it a pattern?”

“Like the Law of Stilinski? Once, an incident, twice co-incidence, three times a pattern? Yes, I suppose.” Stiles ponders that for a moment in the passenger seat. “Tradition. I like that.”

Four weeks before Christmas marks the unofficial start of the holiday season in the McCall-Stilinski household: they buy a Christmas tree on Saturday and on Sunday they decorate it. They use purple and pink accents, as a nod to the liturgical tradition or the bi pride flag, depending on who asks. Scott also sets up the Christmas gift lottery. Everyone in the pack is assigned two giftees at random. It started out as a way to keep the price tag on present buying manageable when they were all poor students. By now, the pack seems to enjoy it as part of the Christmas traditions. On the third Sunday before Christmas, everyone gets their assignments, and presents start to pile up underneath the tree. Christmas eve, all of the extended McCall pack drinks aniseed milk (for the werewolves), eggnog (for those who enjoy alcohol), and hot chocolate (everyone) and swaps presents at the alpha residence. 

 

Ten days before Christmas, they start the Hanukkah observation. It grew out of Stiles’ exploration of his mother’s religious roots. Seven years on, Stiles is still working out his religious feelings in a world full of supernatural creatures, but Scott cherishes the moment in the summer between their second and third year in uni when Stiles told him that participating in Jewish traditions brought back some connection to his mother. That summer had been a turning point for them: they finally, definitively made the transition from friends to lovers. 

  
  


Scott wakes up with a jolt, thinking he missed his alarm before he realises it's Christmas morning. Stiles is looking at him amused, his shirt already off. 

"Happy Christmas Scotty." 

"Merry Christmas darling," he says. "What time is it?"

Stiles presses a quick kiss on his mouth: "No idea. But I think there's still some time before we have to start the day, right?"

Scott lies back, closes his eyes to take in the scent of Stiles, spiking with arousal, and listening to Stiles’ heartbeat. 

 

He knows he is only allowing Stiles take charge, but puts his hands against the headboard anyway and waits for what will grab Stiles’ attention first. Stiles peels of his boxers first, licks a stripe up his dick, teasing it fully hard and then sucking it down. 

“Oh yeah, like that,” Scott groans in pleasure, closes his eyes and grips the headboard a little tighter. He loves this: sex in their bed, surrounded by their combined scent and Stiles’ arousal, he loves hearing Stiles making little sloppy noises, he loves… Stiles lets his hands roam over his thighs, alternating scratching a little and stroking over it. 

“Stiles, gods, please, yes, I’m…” 

But before he finishes the sentence, Stiles lets go of Scott’s dick and shuffles upward to hitch up Scott’s t-shirt, trailing kisses as he moves up the shirt. When he reaches Scott’s nipples he sucks and bites a little while grinding on Scott’s dick. It’s really not fair and almost too much but too little to come. Scott lets go of the headboard for a moment to allow his shirt to be taken off completely and wraps his arms around his boyfriend to pull him in for a kiss. They kiss, leisurely, Stiles grinding on him for a bit, just a hint of what’s coming. Stiles eventually loses his patience, and breaks the kiss. He slides back down so he can jerk them off together.

 

Scott pulls Stiles against him, to soak in the contentment of the two of them, piled together back under the blanket, listening to the slowing rhythm of Stiles’ heartbeat. As the sunlight starts to chip away at the fog, Scott decides it’s time to start the day.

“Stiles, I think we should be getting up,” he says softly.

“Hmpf,” Stiles says, burying his face deeper in the crook of Scott’s neck. “No.”

“We could shower?” Scott offers as a compromise. 

Stiles looks up, slightly happier: “together?”

“Well, I’m going alone if you’d rather stay in bed,” Scott sort of threatens. He can see Stiles giving in. 

“Let’s shower.”

 

Scott makes a quick run downstairs to start the coffeemaker while Stiles puts the towels over the heater in the bathroom. He runs back upstairs to join Stiles under the shower. They take turns washing each other’s hair, shaving, and lathering each other up with shower gel. Scott spends a little longer than strictly necessary with Stiles’ back and butt, and he is pretty sure Stiles lavishes more attention on his arms than he needs to. They towel each other dry and get dressed.

 

After their very late breakfast, they start setting up. Their apartment has a table big enough for six-people-if-you-squeeze. So they started inviting their parents and respective partners over for dinner since they moved back to Beacon Hills. They have a distribution of tasks between the members of the family: Stiles coordinates the menu, Melissa is in charge of the wine selection, Scott and Noah Stilinski do most of the cooking and Stiles makes dessert. In between other things, Scott has been poaching chicken and making mole. Scott puts the corn husks in water and makes the masa, carefully kneading the dough until it has the consistency of mashed potatoes. He hears Stiles cleaning up the living room and setting the table while humming along to a Christmas playlist. The preparations done, they settle on the couch, Stiles re-reading Bloodline and Scott The Once and Future King. 

 

Around four o’clock, Scott hears his mother’s footfalls outside, with Alan’s right behind her. 

“They’re here!” he says to Stiles. The bell rings a few seconds later. Scott gets up to buzz them in. He runs down the stairs to greet them.

“Mom!” He wraps his arms around her halfway down the stairs, “Let me take those.”

“Merry Christmas, honey,” Melissa says, kissing him on the cheek. She hands him a bag with bottles of wine. 

“Hi Alan,” Scott says, “good to see you. Merry Christmas. I’d shake your hand, but...” He holds up the bags, smiling apologetically.

“Merry Christmas, Scott,” Alan says, smiling widely back. 

They walk up the stairs, where Stiles stands, waiting for them to come in. 

“Hi Stiles,” Melissa says, kissing him on both cheeks, “merry Christmas. Had fun last night?”

“Hi Melissa. Everyone behaved. Mostly.” Stiles closes the door behind Alan. 

“Hi Alan, welcome. And merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas Stiles.” 

Coats are put on the peg - yes their home has that now -  and everyone moves to the living room. “What can I get you to drink?” Scott offers.“Coffee, please.” Melissa says, and Alan nods his assent.

“Got it, coffee. You too, Scotty?” Stiles says.

“Yes please.” 

Scott’s gaze follows Stiles as his boyfriend walks to the kitchen with the wine. He must have been staring, because when he returns his attention to the table, his mother is looking at him amused. 

“I’d think you’d be used to it by now.” she says.

Scott just shakes his head, shrugs and changes the topic: “How were things at mrs. Deaton’s last night?”

“She’s doing well. Marin was there too, so that was nice.” Alan says. “And she enjoyed seeing Melissa, too.” He looks at Melissa: “I’d call it a success, wouldn’t you?”

They exchange stories over their relatives’ Christmas experiences when Scott comes in with the coffee and sugar. 

“So, you have work for us?” Melissa asks, eying the clock. 

“Tamales,” Scott affirms.

“Bring it on.”

Scott carries in the soaked corn husks, and Stiles follow with the masa and a bunch of spoons. They set to work assembling the packages. By the time Noah and Natalie arrive with a bowl of salad and a pot of consomme, the tamales are simmering away in the broth. Alan has opened the wine, and though Scott can’t get drunk, he accepts a glass. When they sit down at the table, Scott squeezes Stiles’ hand for a moment. Stiles looks back at him, smiling widely. It is amazing how they still feed off each other’s happiness. 

 

After a successful dinner party, they wave their parents goodbye in the door opening. The quiet of the house is an almost physical relief to Scott. Stiles looks him over and says: "You go upstairs, I'll fill up the dishwasher." 

Scott wants to argue, but then he surveys the kitchen. Yes, Stiles can load up the dishwasher. Plus, he suspects Stiles likes it when he has warmed up the bed a little. So instead he nods and says: "See you in a bit."

 

In the bedroom, Scott takes off his button-down and throws in the hamper, followed by his pants. He shivers as he puts on his t-shirt and gets into bed. He turns on the bedlight and turns off the big light. He listens in if Stiles is doing okay, but his  heart rate is steady, and the dishes don't seem to be breaking. 

 

He picks up the battered copy of Heir to the Jedi, letting it fall open on a random page and starts reading from there. He registers the sound of the dishwasher starting to buzz, and Stiles coming up the stairs. 

"Hey," Stiles smiles at him, “Star Wars huh?”

"We did get there eventually." Scott says, referring simultaneously to his developing appreciation of the Star Wars universe, their getting together or developing traditions. 

"I say we had a good run this year," Stiles says, "we're getting good at this whole dinner party thing." He throws his button down after Scott's into the hamper, peels off his pants, Scott watching with a soft smile tugging at his lips, inspects and throws it over the chair. From the back of the chair, he takes his cotton longsleeve that he puts on. Scott looks back at his book as Stiles walks over to his side of the bed. Scott knows this dance intimately: Stiles takes off his glasses, puts them on the bedside table, takes a sip of water, and gets under the cover. Obliging, Scott lifts his arm, and Stiles snuggles against him. Scott flips another page, reading on, while Stiles' breathing evens out into a soft snore. In the warm light of his bedlight, his boyfriend plied against him, the world outside quiet Scott realises he is deeply, warmly, ridiculously happy.


End file.
